Morning [PG 13]
Entered 06:51:36 AM Terra, Sol-III Mutter's Spiral
He woke up slowly, his mind still a dreamlike fog. They were side-by-side, wrapped up in a down-lined nest of feathery warmth, the heat of the evening still trapped in its folds. Their Legs and arms entangled, it was difficult for him to tell where he ended and she began. As it should be, he supposed. He smiled softly. She had done her best, using all her skill and care, to ease his anger and soothe his frustration the night before. It had worked. For the first night in many weeks, he had slept well. The others in the house may not have, but for once in his life, he hadn't cared a whit about their feelings, so deep was his need.
But now the sharp rays of the morning sun were pitilessly piercing the warm envelope of night that had shrouded his pain. The daytime demanded its due, and he was tasked to respond.
Slowly, reluctantly, he began to pull away from her.
"mmm..." she moaned, pressed next to him, subconsciously pulling him back to her as she felt his warm form beginning to pull away from hers.
He paused. The slight separation had caused the sensation of her soft curves to once again become distinct against him. He was acutely aware of impending division. For a brief, agonizing moment that seemed to him an endless eternity, he did not move.
He had a choice. Pull away from her and her warm comforts, to face the cold, bitter day, or press closer once again, and succumb to the intoxicating bliss of joyful union.
It was a weekend morning. There was no work to go to, only life to live. No one would complain if he went back to her arms. But he knew that if he did, he would never leave them. The prospect enticed him. To feel the warmth of love, ensconced forever in a small nest, ignoring the duties and cares of living responsibility, at the price of another day wasted. Or to pull away, and face the aggravation of civilisation once more.
He might have been forgiven for burying himself in her arms once again. But as it stood, he pressed forward briefly, kissing her on the lips, tasting her strawberry-orange lipgloss, and torturously withdrew, extracting himself from her tender embrace.
"Moh..." she murmured sadly, eyes slowly opening, meeting his gaze. He smiled and teased her golden locks. Amazing, he pondered, how a collection of dead cells could still create such a beautiful thing.
"Are you all right, koibito?" she asked softly, tracing her fingers across his face.
Was he all right? He didn't know. In this musky afterglow, basking in her presence, he felt well. But would he still feel so as the day wore on? He sat up, knees over the side of the bed, looking down at her.
She saw the perplexed look on his face and smiled. She knew he was debating whether or not to tell her what she wanted to hear, so as to assuage her concern for his well being. She sat up, the swishing sounds of her skin shifting against the soft sheets the only sound in the slowly brightening room. She drew close to him and hugged him around the shoulders, resting her chin near his neck.
"It'll be all right," she whispered in his ear lightly, her breath tickling his senses. She pressed a bit closer, and shifted again, sitting up next to him now, but still hugging. "Because we'll face it together."
Smiling, she stood, her golden-blonde hair tumbling down and glinting in the light like a kind of angelic halo. Taking his hand, she pulled him to his feet.
Together, they left the safety of their chambers and made to face the day.
Entered 05:47:18 PM Terra, Sol-III Mutter's Spiral
Whatever. Heh. I actually own this small space, which is something of a first for me. So now I can speak unfettered, and without fear of repercussion. Not that I have anything all that controversial to say, mind. Actually I don't have anything to say, really. Except that this is my diary, and I may read it someday.
I'm tired. Mentally. Physically.
Annoyingly, there are many people I've met online recently who I think I'd get on famously as RL friends given half a chance. But then, probably not. Text has a way of being a mediating influence. It allows the wielder to project what they want to be seen, and the reader the chance to see only what they want to see. I'm willing to bet if I was back in High School again, with all of them in the same room, we'd end up sitting at different tables, completely oblivious to, or perhaps even scared of or annoyed with each other.
So best to enjoy what exists as it does. (Not that there's any alternative, HAH).
I may be forgiven these thoughts, since I was moved from my home in New York, where I had friends from the neighborhood to play with who also went to school with me, to a nameless southern state FROM HELL. I was made to go to a magnet school, so all my friends came from areas miles and miles away from me. Moreover, most were in a higher socioeconomic strata than I, and thus excluded me even at school. Thus for those 3 years I had no friends close by. The few I did have vanished to parts unknown, except for two, who now live hundreds of miles away. Thus it is understandable I might desire intelligent human contact. As it sits, the chatbox is the only thing for that. BUT--
This week was the first week the Sub. Senshi chatbox felt more like a burden to me than a pleasure. I usually enjoy my play in there, as it's a welcome diversion from the boring mundanity (is that a word, well it is now) of my normal, everyday being. But I find myself cutting less and less slack there, mainly because of some newbies who know NOTHING about the place. How did they even FIND it?!
I'm just tired of it. I wish I was as cuttingly insightful as Yaijinden (I know I'm putting the poor lad on a pedestal, but I know genius when I see it), but I'm not. sic transit update. end transmission.
"The matter of why Doctor Xadium's Time Capsule is fixed in the curious shape of a 'beverage vending machine' from late 20th-century Earth [Humanian Era 607934] is a subject never broached in polite conversation. Ever. Whilst some have scurrilously posited that Xadium cannot properly effect the repair of a simple Type 60 Chamelionic circuit, it is generally accepted that these disgraceful innuendo are slanderous and utterly unfounded."
- Lord Sendrilmetavanskastaron, "The Gallifreyan Renegades", thirty-eleventh ed.
D O C T O R
"Doctor Xadium was an errant Time Lord whose overactive sense of humour at High Council meetings earned him a more or less permanent holiday from Gallifrey.
Stuck on Earth trying to cobble together a new TARDIS-- but equipped with nothing more than the technological equivalent of bear-skins and stone knives (as well as some metal tape)-- he decided to use his time to follow the myriad trends in Terran society, studying their crude, primitive laws and laughable attempts to improve themselves scientifically.
Aproximately 26 Earth-years into his exile, in order to offset his growing frustration with the 'self-involved, short-sighted, bombastic ape-monkeys with delusions of grandeur"', he took to irregularly recording his more sardonic-- or dare we say even cynical-- views on the ever-progressing devolution of 21st century human civilization (not to mention his own petty irritations) in his 900-year diary, excerpts of which we have extracted from the data core of his notoriously insecure Terran 'computing device' (which in terms of function is slightly less advanced then a Gallifreyan child's first number line).
It is almost refreshing to note the ceaseless amazement he displays at the Terran propensity to supress any information, be it political, archaeological or scientific, that gets in the way of their pedestrian, self-absorbed world-view. It is for this reason that historians have labeled Doctor Xadium 'The Discoverer of Obvious Truth'
- Lord Sendrilmetavanskastaron, "The Gallifreyan Renegades", thirty-eleventh ed., WHO IS GOING TO GET SUED ONCE I GET BACK TO GALLIFREY BECAUSE HE DOESN'T REALIZE MY SUB-ETHER NET CONNECTION STILL WORKS AND I CAN SEE THE ABSOLUTE RUBBISH HE'S SPEWING FORTH OVER THERE AT THE OPPOSITE END OF THE GALAXY
T H E